Make My Today Beautiful - Share With Me All My Tomorrows
Corrigan is a very easy sleeper.
It's both a blessing and a curse, depending on what they're doing and what mood either of them happen to find themselves in. He's always up on his feet easily and without protest should he need to be, but when Kurt needs to be sneaky - like he's needed to be tonight - it's the worst thing about him, easily. It's almost impossible to surprise him like this.
Luckily, Kurt has taken the necessary precautions. He made sure to order piping hot miso soup and rice from room service for supper, to get Corrigan warm and calm and dozy, then a pot of chamomile tea with honey to seal the deal. When Kurt sets his mind to something, he goes all out, and he's going to make damn sure Corrigan won't be waking up until he deems it's time. Besides, if everything goes according to plan, Corrigan is going to need all the rest he can get.
Buckling the cuffs around his wrists is almost more nerve-wrecking than actually fastening the cuffs to the bed, making sure nothing is too tight or too loose, making sure he won't be going anywhere, making sure he doesn't wake up. But once both Corrigan's arms are pulled as comfortably as possible up over his head and locked securely to the headboard of the luxurious bed, and he still miraculously hasn't cracked an eye open, Kurt can breathe a sigh of relief and start flitting around their suite to finish his own personal preparations without fear of any body parts being forcibly removed out of rage. Their newly acknowledged status as boyfriends/partners/soul-mates notwithstanding, Kurt is still the one with the collar around his neck, and Corrigan is still the one calling the shots.
But not tonight.
Pulling the covers off and away, he smiles to himself at the sight of his man laying there, fast asleep, marveling at the fact that even sleeping and chained to a hotel bed, he still somehow manages to look challenging and intimidating, just because of his size and the strength plainly obvious through every part of his body. Not to mention completely, unfairly beautiful, and his. Only his.
Kurt gently straddles Corrigan's lap and leans down over his torso, hands running up his sculpted chest, up his arms, fingers brushing the heavy leather cuffs around his wrists before going back down again. His lips find his neck, his jaw, his earlobe, leaving a trail of slow, warm kisses, his breath ghosting over golden skin. He needs to wake him up easy, take it slow, be gentle and tender until Corrigan is awake and hopefully not spitting fire with rage and offense at Kurt's transgressions. In the end, this is all out of love and a mutual need for each other. He's positive Corrigan will realize what this is and what it means to Kurt. In time. Hopefully. Oh God. Despite the worried little ache in his gut, the smile on his lips is still easily heard as he starts whispering warmly and lovingly into Corrigan's ear:
"Wake up, sunshine."
It's both a blessing and a curse, depending on what they're doing and what mood either of them happen to find themselves in. He's always up on his feet easily and without protest should he need to be, but when Kurt needs to be sneaky - like he's needed to be tonight - it's the worst thing about him, easily. It's almost impossible to surprise him like this.
Luckily, Kurt has taken the necessary precautions. He made sure to order piping hot miso soup and rice from room service for supper, to get Corrigan warm and calm and dozy, then a pot of chamomile tea with honey to seal the deal. When Kurt sets his mind to something, he goes all out, and he's going to make damn sure Corrigan won't be waking up until he deems it's time. Besides, if everything goes according to plan, Corrigan is going to need all the rest he can get.
Buckling the cuffs around his wrists is almost more nerve-wrecking than actually fastening the cuffs to the bed, making sure nothing is too tight or too loose, making sure he won't be going anywhere, making sure he doesn't wake up. But once both Corrigan's arms are pulled as comfortably as possible up over his head and locked securely to the headboard of the luxurious bed, and he still miraculously hasn't cracked an eye open, Kurt can breathe a sigh of relief and start flitting around their suite to finish his own personal preparations without fear of any body parts being forcibly removed out of rage. Their newly acknowledged status as boyfriends/partners/soul-mates notwithstanding, Kurt is still the one with the collar around his neck, and Corrigan is still the one calling the shots.
But not tonight.
Pulling the covers off and away, he smiles to himself at the sight of his man laying there, fast asleep, marveling at the fact that even sleeping and chained to a hotel bed, he still somehow manages to look challenging and intimidating, just because of his size and the strength plainly obvious through every part of his body. Not to mention completely, unfairly beautiful, and his. Only his.
Kurt gently straddles Corrigan's lap and leans down over his torso, hands running up his sculpted chest, up his arms, fingers brushing the heavy leather cuffs around his wrists before going back down again. His lips find his neck, his jaw, his earlobe, leaving a trail of slow, warm kisses, his breath ghosting over golden skin. He needs to wake him up easy, take it slow, be gentle and tender until Corrigan is awake and hopefully not spitting fire with rage and offense at Kurt's transgressions. In the end, this is all out of love and a mutual need for each other. He's positive Corrigan will realize what this is and what it means to Kurt. In time. Hopefully. Oh God. Despite the worried little ache in his gut, the smile on his lips is still easily heard as he starts whispering warmly and lovingly into Corrigan's ear:
"Wake up, sunshine."